


December 8

by kronette



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When I wrote this in 1999, a local station played clips all morning from John Lennon (songs & audio tapes).  December 8 is the anniversary of his death. It's a little silly to write about it using characters, but I felt a need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	December 8

Methos woke with a stretch and a yawn. MacLeod stifled a smile as Methos stumbled into the shower. Methos had been staying with him for over a month and didn't look to be pulling up roots soon. The oldest Immortal had pretty much taken up residence on the couch, stacks of books and papers surrounding the pile of blankets that formed the center of the mess. 

He finished with his breakfast and waited for Methos to emerge from the bathroom. Duncan had just pulled a towel from the closet when the door opened and Methos flashed him a quick smile. "Morning, MacLeod." 

"Morning, Methos. Did you leave me any hot water?"

Methos scowled. "You ask me that every morning. And what is my answer? ' Of course not, MacLeod. I like my luxuries too much.'"

MacLeod just shook his head and took his turn in the shower. When he finished, he emerged to find Methos packing his bags. 

"You're leaving?" he questioned, confused as to the suddenness of Methos' actions. "It's not another Immortal, is it?"

"No, MacLeod," Methos answered patiently. "I have an appointment in New York."

"You haven't mentioned it before now," MacLeod lightly accused. 

"Didn't see a need to. I'll be back within a week, Highlander. It's just some business I need to take care of." 

MacLeod tried for a light tone. "Mind if I tag along?"

Methos stopped packing and turned to face MacLeod. "Why?"

"Do I need a reason to fly to New York? Maybe I want to check on Connor's place for him. He did ask that I keep an eye on it." 

Methos resumed packing. "If you want to come, I'm not going to stop you. My flight leaves at 1; if you can get a ticket, then you're welcome to 'tag along'."

MacLeod reached for the phone. "Which airline?"

~~~

Half a day later, both Immortals stepped out into the chill December air of New York City. MacLeod had checked in on Connor's flat; all appeared in order. Rachael had flirted with both men, all knowing it wasn't taken seriously. That task done, the two Immortals dodged traffic throughout the city. 

"Where are we going?" MacLeod asked over the roar of a passing bus. He stepped close to Methos in order to hear his answer. 

"Don't you know what today is?" Methos asked softly. 

"Tuesday?" MacLeod tried. 

"And you called *me* weak on pop culture? Today is December 8th," Methos stated as if it were obvious. 

MacLeod rolled his eyes. "I know today's date."

Methos sighed as they rounded a corner and came upon a large crowd gathered. MacLeod stared out over the people, wondering who the celebrity was inside the building. 

"Why are they all here?"

"Today is an anniversary, MacLeod. A rather important one to some of us." Methos took his hands out of his pockets, removing a small candle in the process. He asked one of the gatherers for a light, and soon his candle was burning along with others. "You don't have to come up if you don't want to," Methos tossed over his shoulder as he began to move into the crowd. MacLeod followed right behind. 

Methos made it to the iron fence and placed his candle with the others already there, then stepped back so that others could have their turn. As he slipped out of the crowd, MacLeod right behind him, he began to talk. in a quiet voice. 

"I was in Europe when it happened; setting up my life to join the Watchers. All of a sudden, it was all over the bulletins, news reports, radio...every form of media we had at the time broadcast the news about his death." Methos nodded to many of the pictures people held up. "I respected the man. He wanted to live his life in peace, yet he tried to make the world a better place. I think he had the best of both worlds, there at the end." 

MacLeod's gaze sweeped the ever-increasing crowd, admiring the people's stamina. "They've been doing this for 18 years," he said to no one in particular. 

If Methos was surprised, he didn't show it. "Yes, some of us have," he commented. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets. A sudden cold blast whipped around the corner, and not even the crush of people warded off the chill. "I don't need to stay any longer; I've done what I came to do," Methos said as he hunched his shoulders to keep his body heat in. 

Some of the crowd near the front started singing, and MacLeod smiled. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay for a bit." 

Methos just shrugged, but MacLeod could tell that the oldest Immortal was glad. 

"By the way, remind me when we get back to Seacouver to look in my storage unit. I have a signed copy of the White Album."

**Author's Note:**

> I was only 8 when it happened, but I still have tapes of his music that I recorded from that time. And thanks to an online friend, I have a few magazines from 1980 as well.


End file.
